


A Way With Words

by Mnemo_ink



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Musician Charles Xavier, Sick Character, rock star Erik Lehnsherr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemo_ink/pseuds/Mnemo_ink
Summary: Erik usually has a great writing talent. Today is not a good day.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17
Collections: Secret Mutant Madness 2019





	A Way With Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Lynds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds) in the [secret_mutant_madness_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/secret_mutant_madness_2019) collection. 

> **Prompt:**  

> 
> Charles is a classical musician, Erik is a rock star. But instead of being really snotty about each other’s music, they’re both fans! 
> 
> Look, I just hate the idea that classical musicians must hate rock! I’m a mezzo-soprano but my fav band is Muse! I just can’t SING it. Some proper music nerdery would be amazing - I don’t want them to have the same tastes as each other, but I want them to have realistically diverse tastes! Idk Erik plays indie rock but loves the latest Krept & Konan track and can’t listen to Bach without closing his eyes to soak it up?

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Charles Xavier always says the worst thing he can possibly say.

While the man in question believed this to be quite exaggerated, he agreed finding the right words was not always his strongest suit.

Intellectual debate or teaching presentations were not an issue, he even had quite the talent for it. For flirting, well... Let's say your mileage may vary. (But it _worked;_ whatever people said, so there!)

For the rest, he was not to be trusted, especially in the heat of the moment, no matter how good his intentions.

This reputation may be responsible for the fact Charles was terribly glad not to have to write lyrics for his compositions.

Erik, on the contrary,_ loved_ writing. What better way to express all the frustrations, bitterness and rage the world inspired him, plus in a way he could shout at the world ? Well, what better _legal_ way anyway. Charles was forever thankful for Eddie Lehnsherr, the one person for whom Erik tried very hard to stay out of jail. Meeting Erik would have been a lot less likely in that case.

Not that Erik had _never_ been arrested. Indeed, the last time it happened he wrote a song dedicated to Charles. Sure, it was a rather depressing one, about a missing lover and a decade in prison (Erik was in jail only one night). But it was a love song, and for him, and Charles melted completely.

(There was, in fact, another song about Charles, with a way more sexual content. Realizing people may try to seduce his Charles after learning of the magnitude of his sexual power, Erik wisely chose to keep "Tell me what to do" to himself).

Anyway, while Charles couldn't write, he was marvelous for giving thoughtful and helpful critics. Erik wanted his opinion so much, he made him read everything before any of his bandmates. And since Erik was meant to work on new songs today, Charles rolled home fully prepared to an heated and passionate exchange with his partner about his work followed by dinner and another sort of heated and passionate exchange.

The strong cough he heard quickly made him realize his plans for the evening had just changed.

Erik was strong, the strongest man Charles ever knew. He was also extremely dramatic, a penchant thankfully satisfied on stage. Mostly.

When it came to illness, Erik's theatrics were inversely proportional to the seriousness of the situation. Seeing the picture of absolute misery Erik was making, Charles knew immediately things were not serious. 

His lover was clutching a tissue to his chest, acting as if he was mortally wounded in battle instead of suffering of what appeared to be a bad cold.

"Charles, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to see you before…"

While the love he could feel was touching, Charles could only roll his eyes.

"You're not dying, you just need some good rest, yeah?"

"It's worse than death. This is the end. Inspiration has left me."

Erik pointed to his notebook in an exaggerated motion, as if he was posing for some sort of dying roman emperor painting.

"Just look. See how I've fallen."

Charles grabbed the notebook with a sigh and had to restrain a laugh at what he saw.

Most of it was covered in scribbles positively radiating frustration. There was only one sentence.

"'I want to punch a nazi.' Not your most inspired lyric, but I get the feeling"

"I'm finished."

"What you are is sick."

"Sick of the world burning because of people's cold hearts."

"See! Still good with words. And sick as in 'I have a fever as a component of immune response to an infection.'"

A silly smile appeared on Erik's face, who then proceeded to try to appear seductive:

"You're hot when you talk science." 

"Thank you, but I'm not sure it helps with your fever."

Also the coughing and running nose didn't do much for Charles' libido, but he kept that part to himself.

"I need Air." 

Ah, there it was.

"You need tea with plenty honey, some cold medicine and our bed."

"But then, Air?" asked Erik with the pout of a six year old.

"Yes, you german idiot."

And so Charles managed to hydrate, medicate and put Erik to bed while juggling between the dramatic dying, the affectionate puppy and the uncooperative kid. Once done he took his violin and started to play Air on the G string, his husband's favorite arrangement of Bach.

Erik relaxed at once, soon falling asleep looking calm and at peace in a way that touched Charles straight to his heart. Charles put all his love in his music, finishing the piece with a smile on his face.

And then he went back in the living room and send the photo of today's "writing" to their group of friends.


End file.
